Snow village...
Nope, it's not snowing in Texas. But the spirit's here in the form of porcelain crack! Anyday, now, I'll be out on the streets, holding up a carboard sign reading: "Will Work for Snow Village Buildings..."
Cynthia's been wanting a little snow village, and I have to admit that I have a soft spot for holiday decorating. A BIG soft spot.
Now I'll be the first to admit that yes, we own a few Beanie Babies...not lots, but a couple: a little Baldy eagle, a big Baldy Buddy eagle, a little iguana that looks more like a stoned chameleon, a duck, and a big and little ostrich. Cynthia has a little Star Wars beanie darth Maul we call "Mini Maul"...that's the extent of that.
But this snow village thing...some people's "snow" addiction is cocaine--ours comes in the form of little porcelain buildings that rival Beanie Babies for cuteness. And a quick search on the web shows they appear to be just as addictive, with people selling retired pieces on eBay for more than internal organs. Sure, we don't own a sweater with a puff-paint Christmas tree on it, but we've crossed into that rabid, "Isn't that so cute?!" territory.
But the little snow village serves a purpose...
I remember standing in my front yard up north...it was 1979 and "The Great Blizzard" was starting. I remember all my friends inside their houses, tucked away where it was safe and warm, but I was going to stand outside until my Mom dragged me in...if she could find me in the 25 foot tall snow drifts I was sure were going to just happen (so they didn't get that high, but we could climb a drift at the back of the house and get on the roof). I loved that feeling of being out in the snow, the sky somewhere between blue and black...warm light spilling out from windows.
We don't get real winters in this part of Texas. The every-couple-years wicked-beyond-belief ice storms are as close as we come. Until tonight.
Sitting out in the living room is the beginning of our little snow village. It's the kind of thing that would have made Christmas even better as a kid; I loved decorating for the holiday and still do.
Cynthia's never seen a real snow. In the eleven years we've been together, we've never gone on vacation, but we're hoping to go skiing in the next year or so. She listens to my stories about growing up in Northern Illinois...all my stories about snow and ice.
Until the time comes when we can hit real snow, or move north, the little village in the living room will spark memories of my youth and fuel Cynthia's dreams.
Not a bad trade-off for a new addiction :)
Cynthia's been wanting a little snow village, and I have to admit that I have a soft spot for holiday decorating. A BIG soft spot.
Now I'll be the first to admit that yes, we own a few Beanie Babies...not lots, but a couple: a little Baldy eagle, a big Baldy Buddy eagle, a little iguana that looks more like a stoned chameleon, a duck, and a big and little ostrich. Cynthia has a little Star Wars beanie darth Maul we call "Mini Maul"...that's the extent of that.
But this snow village thing...some people's "snow" addiction is cocaine--ours comes in the form of little porcelain buildings that rival Beanie Babies for cuteness. And a quick search on the web shows they appear to be just as addictive, with people selling retired pieces on eBay for more than internal organs. Sure, we don't own a sweater with a puff-paint Christmas tree on it, but we've crossed into that rabid, "Isn't that so cute?!" territory.
But the little snow village serves a purpose...
I remember standing in my front yard up north...it was 1979 and "The Great Blizzard" was starting. I remember all my friends inside their houses, tucked away where it was safe and warm, but I was going to stand outside until my Mom dragged me in...if she could find me in the 25 foot tall snow drifts I was sure were going to just happen (so they didn't get that high, but we could climb a drift at the back of the house and get on the roof). I loved that feeling of being out in the snow, the sky somewhere between blue and black...warm light spilling out from windows.
We don't get real winters in this part of Texas. The every-couple-years wicked-beyond-belief ice storms are as close as we come. Until tonight.
Sitting out in the living room is the beginning of our little snow village. It's the kind of thing that would have made Christmas even better as a kid; I loved decorating for the holiday and still do.
Cynthia's never seen a real snow. In the eleven years we've been together, we've never gone on vacation, but we're hoping to go skiing in the next year or so. She listens to my stories about growing up in Northern Illinois...all my stories about snow and ice.
Until the time comes when we can hit real snow, or move north, the little village in the living room will spark memories of my youth and fuel Cynthia's dreams.
Not a bad trade-off for a new addiction :)